


Meet you by the Mistletoe

by LeapAngstily



Series: December Footie Fanfic Giveaway [7]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: Drunk Peerlo of Doom, Gigi and Andrea being overprotective mother hens, M/M, Milla's questionable attempts at humour, Mistletoe clichés, Non-Linear Narrative, sexual identity issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-26
Updated: 2014-12-26
Packaged: 2018-03-03 14:18:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2853875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeapAngstily/pseuds/LeapAngstily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Giorgio has a plan for Gigi’s traditional Christmas party: he will finally take his chance and make a move on Riccardo. Too bad Gigi and Andrea seem to be determined to ruin his plans. (aka “about 5 times Giorgio wanted to kiss Riccardo”)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meet you by the Mistletoe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aoiyuno](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aoiyuno/gifts).



> This is what happens when you give me too much freedom with your prompt – I’m sorry, [Chiello/Monto is my guilty pleasure](http://montosmadman.tumblr.com/post/102891069097)! But don’t you worry: I do have a bunch of Monto fics (with slightly more "traditional" pairings) lined up to be written in the near future. ;3
> 
> Written for my [December Footie Fanfic Giveaway](http://montosmadman.tumblr.com/post/104190423597). There’s still almost a week left of December, so please do drop me a message if you’re experiencing acute fic needs.
> 
>  

When Giorgio hears Gigi has managed to convince Riccardo to attend this year’s pre-Christmas party, he knows he needs to come up with a plan that will get him back into the Milan captain’s good graces.  
  
It is a yearly tradition, Gigi’s parties – an easygoing Azzurri get-together where they can look back at the past year and maybe catch up with their teammates playing for other clubs – although in the recent years most of the people attending have usually been from Juventus, just like the core of the national team.  
  
This year the date of the party falls on the first Monday of December, a break week in Champions League for Juve, just a day after Riccardo makes his comeback to the pitch after his injury.  
  
On Sunday, Giorgio spends the preparation time before his own match fiddling with his phone, watching the Milan game intently in hopes of catching a sight of Riccardo, until Andrea snatches the device from his hands and tells him to stop acting like a lovesick idiot.  
  
Before the game Andrea tells him Riccardo got five minutes at the end. Giorgio knows it already.  
  
  
  
 _Giorgio and Riccardo have never been particularly close._  
  
 _They are almost the same age, but despite that Giorgio has always been a part of the “older generation” in the national team, while Riccardo is more comfortable around the younger players with whom he has been playing since their junior years._  
  
 _However, as the older players have left the national team, making room for the new generation, Giorgio has come to notice Riccardo is actually great company: smart, charming, funny. At times he even catches himself wondering why he has not paid Riccardo more attention before now – before he became a part of the experienced core of the team._  
  
 _But despite their slowly deepening friendship, Giorgio does not think it is natural how much he worries when Riccardo gets injured against Ireland._  
  
 _He sees the midfielder back at the hotel afterwards together with the rest of their teammates, but for some reason it does not feel like it is enough. Giorgio spends the following night lying awake in bed, thinking about Riccardo who must be feeling horrible, alone in his own room._  
  
 _“Stop it with the kicked puppy look – just go see him if you’re so worried!” Andrea tells him with a roll of his eyes when they meet up in the corridor before breakfast. It is not the first time Giorgio has suspected Andrea has some kind of psychic powers._  
  
 _Riccardo opens the door after the second knock, walking with crutches, surprise shining from his face when he sees Giorgio._  
  
 _“Hey, how are you doing?” Giorgio asks carefully, trying to appear casual. Stupid question, obviously – how would Giorgio feel if it was him missing out the World Cup because of some stupid friendly match?_  
  
 _“Better,” Riccardo answers with a ghost of a smile, and he moves out of the way to let Giorgio in, “Sorry for making you all worry – I’ll be fine once the shock wears off.”_  
  
 _True to his words, Riccardo looks much better than the previous night, when he had obviously been fighting tears the whole time his teammates were in the room._  
  
 _“That’s good to hear,” Giorgio tells him as he walks in, watching as Riccardo limps back to the bed, and then after a moment’s hesitation he decides to sit down next to him, “Just keep your head up. You have time: you’ll make it to the next tournament.”_  
  
 _Riccardo’s smile is almost teasing when he meets Giorgio’s eyes and retorts, “We’re not that young, Giorgio. We can’t be sure of anything anymore.”_  
  
 _For a second Giorgio wonders if Riccardo’s lips would feel as soft as they look at that moment._  
  
 _“You’re talking like we were on the brink of retirement,” he says, trying to keep his tone light, “I, for one, have no intention of giving up my place on the team anytime soon.”_  
  
 _Riccardo bites his lip, looking down at his hands that are still holding the crutches, “Maybe you’re right. It’s just so hard to stay positive right now…”_  
  
 _Giorgio has no idea what he is supposed to say to that, so he just pats Riccardo’s shoulder awkwardly._  
  
  
  
Gigi pulls a Santa hat over Giorgio’s ears the moment he walks into the house, happily humming some cheery Christmas tune under his breath as he ushers him inside, helping him pull off his jacket like the proper host he is.  
  
“There’s food in the kitchen, and some wine and punch as well – though I’d be careful with that one, I saw a vodka bottle in Andrea’s bag,” he tells Giorgio as they walk into the living room that is already filled with chatter from the people who have arrived early, “You know your way around, right? Just make yourself home.”  
  
He presses a sudden peck on Giorgio’s lips before pointing up at the ceiling, “Mistletoe.”  
  
With that he skips off, probably to wreck havoc elsewhere. It takes a moment for Giorgio to realize what just happened, and then he quickly takes a step to the side, away from the mistletoe, just as he sees Claudio approaching him with a devious smirk on his face.  
  
The whole house is decorated with red and green glitter, the tree in one corner so covered in colourful lights and baubles that Giorgio can barely see the branches underneath. Gigi has obviously gone out of his way to make this year’s party exceedingly Christmas-y.  
  
Giorgio cannot see Riccardo anywhere, so he makes his way to the sofa where Andrea is sitting with Conte, both of them sipping their wine, obviously deep in conversation.  
  
Giorgio’s increasing sense of doom does not ease up in the least when Andrea salutes him with his glass, his smile wide, dangerous, “To the new beginnings, my dearest Giorgio.”  
  
  
  
 _Giorgio is not quite sure how it happens, but he ends up messaging Riccardo every single day while the team stays in Brazil._  
  
 _He tells himself it is because he feels sorry for Riccardo – wants to make sure he feels like he is an important part of the team even when he is not with them. But he knows it is more for himself when he writes another message, idly complaining about the stifling heat in Rio de Janeiro._  
  
 _Riccardo does not reply to every message immediately, probably busy with rehabilitation and his own life, but he always gets around to doing it sooner or later. And while his answers are rarely more than a few words long, they still manage to bring a smile to Giorgio’s face every time._  
  
 _The first and only time Riccardo messages Giorgio first is when Italy gets eliminated, when Giorgio is still mad as a hornet because of the biting stunt Suárez had pulled on him._  
  
 _“Are you alright? xoxo”_  
  
 _And just like that, Giorgio can feel his anger subsiding. He is about to reply when his phone buzzes again to indicate another message from Riccardo._  
  
 _“We’re still young. Let’s kick ass in France, okay? xoxo”_  
  
 _Giorgio actually smiles at that and he writes his reply quickly: “I’m looking forward to that! xoxo”_  
  
 _He stares at the screen for a while and then he removes the last part before sending the message._  
  
 _Hugs and kisses might be part of Riccardo’s daily vocabulary, but for Giorgio they feel too personal, too intimate. He does not want to send a wrong message, after all._  
  
  
  
Riccardo arrives maybe half an hour after Giorgio, with Stephan and Ignazio in tow. Giorgio feels a twinge of jealously when Gigi catches the Milan captain into his trademark bear hug, practically lifting him off the floor before he can even take his jacket off.  
  
Gigi has always adored Riccardo, ever since he was first called up to the national team.  
  
But that is nothing new, Giorgio reminds himself, because Gigi adores every new baby sent his way – a fact that becomes obvious when he next tackles Stephan, ruffling his impeccably styled hair with obvious delight.  
  
Giorgio makes a move to go greet the new arrivals – mostly Riccardo, but no one needs to know that – but Andrea’s voice stops him in his tracks: “For God’s sake, give the boy some room, will you?”  
  
Conte has disappeared while Giorgio was preoccupied, and now it is just Andrea and him within the earshot. It cannot be a good thing, considering Andrea is the only person who has made a point of letting Giorgio know his little crush on Riccardo has not gone unnoticed.  
  
“I haven’t even talked to him, have I?” he retorts defensively, a faint blush rising on his cheeks, because even though Giorgio knows he is right, it is hard not to feel guilty when he has Andrea’s patented glare aimed at him, “Shouldn’t you be more worried about Gigi being all over him?”  
  
“Gigi’s never made him cry, now has he?”  
  
Okay, so now Giorgio really is feeling guilty.  
  
  
  
 _”Do you like me, Giorgio?”_  
  
 _The question takes Giorgio completely by surprise, because it is honestly the last thing he expected to hear when he came over to Riccardo’s place for a cup of coffee._  
  
 _They have met only a couple of times since the World Cup, although Giorgio still finds himself writing messages to Riccardo over the simplest of things. A remnant from his time in Brazil, nothing more, nothing less._  
  
 _“What kind of a question is that?” he flashes a smile at Riccardo who is walking around the kitchen – the crutches are gone and his limp all but healed – fidgeting with the coffee cups, putting them down, picking them up again, then setting them on a different counter, “Of course I like you. We’re friends, aren’t we?”_  
  
 _“No, I didn’t mean that,” Riccardo protests immediately, taking the empty cups again and bringing them over to the kitchen table now, “I meant— no, sorry, forget I said anything. I was just over-thinking stuff. It’s nothing. Do you want milk or sugar in your coffee?”_  
  
 _Giorgio looks down at the cups that are still very much coffee-less, and then he stands up and takes a hold of Riccardo’s shoulders, stopping his babbling almost mid-sentence._  
  
 _“Sit down. You shouldn’t overextend yourself, right? I’ll take care of the coffee.”_  
  
 _The stunned look on Riccardo’s face is adorable, and finally Giorgio understands why Gigi enjoys teasing him so much. His reactions are so honest, unguarded._  
  
 _“You shouldn’t do that,” Riccardo says softly as Giorgio guides him to the nearest chair, making him sit down before walking over to the coffeemaker to pick up the pot._  
  
 _“What, serve you coffee?” Giorgio asks with a crooked smile, filling both cups before carrying a box of sugar and a milk canton to the table, “It’s the least I can do.”_  
  
 _Riccardo smiles silently, the corners of his eyes wrinkling cutely. The tip of his tongue darts out to lick his lips before he picks up his cup and takes a sip without adding anything to the dark liquid._  
  
 _Giorgio is stuck staring at the motion, practically mesmerized by the way Riccardo’s lips brush against the rim of his cup._  
  
 _And suddenly he realizes what Riccardo had meant by his question._  
  
  
  
Riccardo sticks mostly to Ignazio and Claudio’s company as the evening progresses, exchanging an occasional word here and there when other people join them, all the while accepting Gigi’s random hugs with practiced ease.  
  
Andrea’s words keep haunting Giorgio, who has lost all his earlier determination to talk to Riccardo tonight, even though Andrea himself has disappeared somewhere along with Daniele. Giorgio knows the two together is never good news, especially when alcohol is involved, but he decides to leave worrying about them to Gigi – it is his house, after all.  
  
Giorgio spends most of his time talking to Barzagli and Bonucci, recounting the previous night’s game, but he cannot stop himself from glancing over at Riccardo time and time again.  
  
Then suddenly Riccardo is gone and Giorgio panics – he needs to make his move tonight, it might be his last chance – so he excuses himself from his teammates’ company and walks to the direction he assumes Riccardo went.  
  
He runs into Riccardo at the kitchen door, and it happens far too quickly for Giorgio to come up with anything smart to say.  
  
“Punch?” he asks, pointing at the glass in Riccardo’s hand dumbly, “Better be careful: I heard Andrea spiked it.”  
  
“I’m driving, so it’s just juice,” Riccardo answers, tilting his head a little to the side – it makes Giorgio’s heart miss a beat – “Someone needs to be the adult here, right?”  
  
There is another mistletoe on the doorframe, hanging right above Riccardo’s head. Riccardo follows Giorgio’s gaze up and lets out a laugh when he notices their compromising situation.  
  
“Don’t worry, you don’t need to kiss me if you don’t want to.”  
  
Giorgio  _wants to_ , there is nothing he would rather be doing than kissing Riccardo right now. To be honest, there is hardly anything he would rather be doing on a daily basis either.  
  
But just as he takes a step towards Riccardo to do exactly what he wants to, Andrea appears from the kitchen, spinning Riccardo around and planting a long and wet kiss on his lips.  
  
Giorgio has to fight a sudden impulse to pull them apart when he realizes Riccardo is returning the kiss without any hesitation.  
  
“Hi there, beautiful. Come here often?” Andrea’s voice is slurring only slightly, but it is obvious he has spent a better part of the night enjoying the punch. He turns his attention to Giorgio before Riccardo can answer and grins at him unapologetically, “Sorry Giorgio, only one kiss per mistletoe.”  
  
“I’m sure Giorgio doesn’t mind,” Riccardo smiles at Giorgio innocently and then he brushes past him on his way to the living room, calling for Stephan who has surrounded himself with the younger Azzurri generation, telling him they should probably head back to Milan soon.  
  
“Oh, but Giorgio  _does_  mind,” Andrea chuckles quietly when Riccardo is out of earshot, his smug smile stretching from one ear to another, “Don’t you, Giorgio dear?”  
  
Giorgio could punch him in the face was it not for Gigi who grabs his arm right at that moment, pulling him along, speaking right into his ear as they go, “We need to have a talk. Now.”  
  
  
  
 _Riccardo visits the national team before the match against Croatia in San Siro._  
  
 _Giorgio has had a lot of time to think about their friendship since the last time they talked face to face, and he has come to realize Riccardo would not have said anything to him in the first place unless he was wishing for something to happen._  
  
 _He had even asked Andrea for help, because there was no one else he could talk to about his feelings for Riccardo, but the midfielder had only told him he was an idiot in no-nonsense terms._  
  
 _Giorgio pulls Riccardo away from their teammates when he gets a chance, but when they are standing in the corridor, just the two of them, he begins to hesitate. What if his assumptions are wrong? What if Riccardo had only wanted to tell him to back off?_  
  
 _Riccardo is looking at him expectantly, arms crossed over his chest, eyes meeting Giorgio’s without hesitation._  
  
 _Giorgio takes a step towards Riccardo, painfully aware he is intruding his personal space, and then he raises his hand to caress the juncture or Riccardo’s neck and shoulder carefully._  
  
 _Riccardo is obviously holding his breath, his eyes flickering down to Giorgio’s lips momentarily before he meets Giorgio’s eyes again, obviously waiting for him to make the next move._  
  
 _This is it. This is what he should have done ages ago._  
  
 _But Giorgio still needs to ask: “Do you like me, Riccardo?”_  
  
 _And right at that moment, their teammates start dribbling out of the dressing room to warm up, and Giorgio backs away from Riccardo like he was burned, looking down at his feet in embarrassment._  
  
 _Riccardo is biting his lip when Giorgio finally dares to look up at him again, but now the earlier hopefulness is gone from his eyes._  
  
 _“Of course I like you. We’re friends, aren’t we?”_  
  
 _He walks out on Giorgio before the defender can utter another word._  
  
 _Andrea tells Giorgio he is a moron when he confides in him the following day: “What was he supposed to say to that, huh? Does he really need to spell it out to you? God, Giorgio, I swear you must be the thickest bonehead I’ve ever met.”_  
  
  
  
Gigi pulls Giorgio into his study unceremoniously, Andrea following on their heels, his movements surprisingly swift considering his drunken state.  
  
Giorgio feels cornered – about to be eaten alive, even – when the doors are closed behind them, the two pairs of sharp eyes fixed on him.  
  
“I’m sure you know what this is about,” Gigi starts solemnly, his jolly demeanour from earlier all but gone, “As your captain, it’s my responsibility to make sure everything’s alright with my team.”  
  
Giorgio shrinks away from the piercing blue eyes. He has always known Gigi can be scary when he needs to, but this is the first time Giorgio is the sole recipient of that intense stare. He has a creeping suspicion Gigi’s concern is not about  _his_  wellbeing.  
  
“What he really wants to say is: you’re never gonna be good enough for our Ricky, so you should just back off,” Andrea chimes in from where he sitting on the office chair, scrolling around with it in a feigned nonchalance. Giorgio is fairly sure it is no accident, though, when he almost runs over Giorgio’s toes.  
  
“No, Andrea, that’s not what I wanted to say,” Gigi tells their friend with a longsuffering sign, although his eyes are twinkling with barely suppressed laughter, “Ricky would kill us if we attempted to choose his men for him, anyways.”  
  
Giorgio’s head is spinning, because until now he had thought Andrea was the only one who knew about him and Riccardo, and now here is Gigi, obviously giving him  _the talk_.  
  
“So… What are you trying to say?” he asks carefully, gathering all his courage so he can look Gigi in the eyes, “’Hurt him and I’ll kick your ass’? I’m afraid it’s too late for that.”  
  
“Oh, Ricky’s more than capable of kicking your ass himself if it ever comes to that,” Gigi is grinning affectionately at the mere idea, and for a second Giorgio wonders if pursuing Riccardo is such a good idea after all, “What I wanted to say was, stop acting like a wimp and go confess your undying love to him before he grows tired of waiting for you and finds someone else.”  
  
Giorgio’s cheeks feel hot and he is sure his whole face is flushed red from the suggestion. Love? This? Surely not. A crush at most, although Giorgio has no courage left to tell it to Gigi who is beaming at him dangerously.  
  
“You better hurry or I might steal him for myself,” Andrea quips and this time he actually crashes into Giorgio with the chair, “Though I still have no idea what he sees in you, shithead.”  
  
Giorgio decides not to take the comment into heart, because Andrea calls people shitheads twenty times a day. Giorgio maybe more often than others lately, but it might be because he really has been acting like an idiot with Riccardo since the summer.  
  
“Giorgio,” Gigi calls after him as he turns to walk out of the door, “If you  _do_  hurt him, I’m gonna make sure him kicking your ass is the least of your worries.”  
  
Riccardo is standing in the hallway when Giorgio finally opens the door, leaning on the opposite wall in a bored fashion, “You done in there? They didn’t threaten to cut your balls off or anything like that, did they?”  
  
“No, they just— wait, you knew they were gonna do that?” Giorgio is really struggling to figure out when exactly his life turned into a ridiculous soap opera with murderous teammates acting as twisted parental figures.  
  
“I’m used to it,” Riccardo offers him with a half-shrug that really explains nothing at all, “You should’ve heard what they said to Gila back when I was dating him, before I told them to keep their noses out of my business. They just enjoy torturing my boyfriends, I guess.”  
  
Giorgio is only half-aware he is nodding his head as Riccardo speaks, his brain only registering a few words – Gilardino, dating, torture, boyfriend…  
  
“Wait. Wait wait wait! Can you say that last part again? I’m your  _boyfriend_?”  
  
“Aren’t you?” Riccardo blinks his eyes innocently, a teasing smile tugging on his lips. Giorgio is sure he can hear Andrea’s cackling behind the study door.  
  
“I haven’t even kissed you yet.”  
  
“What’s stopping you?” Riccardo raises one eyebrow challengingly and he licks his lips slowly in anticipation. Giorgio is fairly sure it is deliberate, but the knowledge does not stop his breath from getting stuck in his throat.  
  
“What the hell am I getting into?” he asks under his breath, but he closes the distance between them nonetheless, slipping his hand to the back of Riccardo’s neck and pulling him into a kiss that has been a long time coming.  
  
“Trust me, you don’t wanna know,” Riccardo tells him when Giorgio tries to pull away – and then his both arms are wrapped around Giorgio’s shoulders and their lips locked in another kiss.  
  
And maybe Giorgio can live with that, as long as Riccardo keeps doing  _that thing_  with his tongue. At that moment, no amount of Gigi’s wrath would be enough to pull him away from Riccardo.  
  
Right at that moment, a loud crash of a falling chair followed by Andrea’s cursing can be heard from the study. Giorgio ignores it pointedly, tightening his hold on Riccardo instead.

**Author's Note:**

> \- Chiello did see Monto in the morning after he got injured and he did message him every day after the national team travelled to Brazil (according to Monto).  
> \- Monto made his comeback against Udinese on November 30. The match kicked off 15:00 (CET). Juve played at 18:00 on the same day.  
> \- Chiello is less than a year older than Monto, but he made his Azzurri debut in 2004 while Monto’s debut was only in 2007, which makes him part of the “old guard”. As far as I know, they rarely played on the same junior levels either. Please correct me if I’m wrong!  
> \- Pirlo really does like cursing – and alcohol, but that should be given, huh?  
> \- Happy holidays to everyone reading this!  
> \- Comments would be much appreciated!


End file.
